


Night Blizzard (Only You are my Sun)

by WinterSakuraAnastasia



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope’s Peak Academy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based Off of a Dream, First Kiss, Fluff & Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hope’s Peak Academy AU, M/M, Major Spoilers for Danganronpa 2, Please talk to someone if you’re having these kind of thoughts, Spoilers, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, depressing angst, first fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25201078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSakuraAnastasia/pseuds/WinterSakuraAnastasia
Summary: To say Saihara was worried was an understatement. He prayed it was just his anxiety acting up, Ouma’s phone was just dead. That’s all it was.Nothing else...
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	Night Blizzard (Only You are my Sun)

**Author's Note:**

> Major Spoilers for the following:  
> Danganronpa 2 Chapter 6  
> Danganronpa 1 Chapter 6
> 
> Please have knowledge of what happens in these chapters before reading this, I don’t want be the one to spoil the twist for you :(

Hope's Peak Academy.

A school that all students dreamed of getting into someday.

A school with everything you could ever want. People who went into that school were set for life, guaranteed a job.

A perfectly normal school for the talented, where nothing went on behind the scenes. Right?

Well, then you'd be wrong. Terribly wrong. A tragedy such as this can start simply by jealousy. It all began with a jealous friend, a sleeping victim, and a 'talentless' detective.

The detective and the victim were already friends, at the time of the incident. Those feelings eventually started to develop into something a little more, but the two of them were oblivious to their blossoming feelings.

The detective's name was Shuichi Saihara.

The victim's name was Kokichi Ouma.

And the jealous friend's name remained unsaid.

They attended all Hope's Peak together, shared their happiest days in harmony and comfortableness. The detective had gotten the idea to spend time together at the park inside Hope's Peak. They were walking, shoes crushing the green blades of grass slightly. Among the sea of green that was Hope's Peak's park, Ouma noticed an object of interest that contrasted beautifully.

A single, violet-purple flower. Ouma ran off to take a closer look, bending down to look at the purple-violet petals. Said flower captured his short-lived attention.

"Hey, Saihara-chan, come over here! I found a cool flower!" Ouma called out to the detective he had kind of left behind, who was deep in thought.

"I really hope you're not pranking me again," Saihara sweatdropped slightly while Ouma simply laughed. Despite the possibility of a prank lingering in the air, Saihara ran over to the smaller boy. The two of them stared at the flower for a while longer, until Ouma's words cut through the silence.

"Saihara-chan, doesn't this flower remind you of little ol’ me?" Ouma suddenly asked, immediately catching the navy-haired boy's attention.

"Hmm... well, if it's purple and lies, then yes, maybe I'd say it would." Saihara let out a small laugh.

"Heyyy," Ouma pouted, letting himself drag out the word, "How would flowers even lie anyway?"

But, as if to prove a point, the flower seemed to turn a pink-purple color. Saihara and Ouma stared at the flower in stunned silence, both feeling a small hint of surprise that a flower could take up so much of their time.

"You know," Ouma said, still a little stunned, "I was just kidding about the flower lying... Or is that a lie?" Ouma added the last part on, just to feel a little normal, that he wasn't just proven wrong by a flower.

"...that was a lie. You were just as shocked as me, right now." Saihara answered, snapping out of his daze to, once again, see through Ouma's lies. That was the favorite part of the game he and Saihara had been playing for years. Which was the truth, and which was the lie?

"Hmm, Saihara-chan, why don't you take the flower with you? If it reminds you of me, you'll keep it forever, riiiiiiight?" Ouma suggested to the detective with a wide smile, whose eyes immediately widened in panic.

"Huh?! But, Ouma-kun, won't the flower die?! I can't keep a plant alive for more than a few days!" Saihara protested, remembering past experiences with flora.

"I'm sure it'll be fine!" Ouma gave his usual cheeky grin. He stared up right into Saihara's eyes, and keeping eye contact as long as possible.

"A-Alright," Saihara gulped, and hesitantly plucked the flower. Maybe he'd try to keep a flower alive for once. When it died, he'd replant the seeds. Simple enough, right?

The two of them didn't notice a piercing set of eyes gazing at them in the shadows, glaring at Ouma with furious envy. The boys laughed and smiled together for the duration of their time together, completely unaware of the jealous gaze.

Saihara and Ouma went their separate ways, Saihara having homework to do, and Ouma... 'doing supreme leader business.' He didn't pay much heed to it; It was a thing he often said he was doing.

Saihara got to his room in Hope's Peak's dorm rooms. He quickly put the flower in a vase and filled it with water, enough to keep the flower alive. Maybe Ouma was right. The flower did remind him of the shorter purple-haired boy in some way, and it stood out in Saihara's room, just like Ouma always did in their classes together. Saihara smiled at the flower that sat neatly in its vase near his window, the sun setting.

It faded brilliantly from a darkening purple to blue, steaks of gold randomly streaking the dark sky. The purple...

The first person that came to his mind was Ouma. But of course, Saihara thought as he shook his head. Ouma was mainly purple anyway, of course he would come to mind first.

Saihara didn't think about it until later, after finishing his homework, that he realized Momota also shared an extremely purple palette. Maybe his best friend should have come to mind first, but Ouma seemed to be occupying a lot of his thoughts lately. Perhaps it was the feeling he'd felt around him, that he was truly with someone that would make him feel at home.

...Saihara always did feel a little out of place, even with his friends. But not with Ouma. Why was he the exception?

Saihara continued to wonder why that was. Yet again, as he was slipping into sleep, Ouma was in every one of his thoughts.

...maybe, just maybe... it was true. Maybe Ouma had stolen his heart after all.

The next day, Ouma didn't come to class. But Saihara didn't worry too much; sometimes he was sick, sometimes he skipped out on class because it was boring.

What _did_ worry him, however, was Ouma not answering his phone. If he were skipping or sick, he'd usually tell Saihara to make sure that he wouldn't worry.

Days passed by, Saihara getting increasingly worried when Ouma still wouldn't answer. Calls went straight to voicemail. Saihara kept a careful check on his phone for Ouma to suddenly text him. The navy haired boy also kept a constant check on the flower Ouma had given to Saihara, to remind him of the smaller boy. It was the last thing Ouma gave to Saihara before mysteriously disappearing. Worry wormed in Saihara's heart. His detective intuition was telling him _many, many things_ , none of them good.

Having worked on many cases, Saihara knew that a meaningful gift like this before a disappearance did not end well. Murder, kidnapping... or worse...

_Suicide._

Saihara desperately shook the thoughts from his head. Although very prone to anxiety, he _had_ to believe Ouma was alive somewhere. He was distancing himself from all of his other friends, worrying so much over the purple-eyed boy that he couldn't let himself be carefree for even a second. His friend was missing, and he nearly felt himself on the point of spiraling downward.

...It took a whole two weeks before Ouma was found. It was the weekend, Saihara still mulling over what happened to Ouma. He was sitting on the park bench, looking solemnly at the place he and Ouma had just been. Where they laughed together, became surprised together, because of a flower. Saihara only turned his head slightly when he heard gentle footsteps behind him.

"Hey, Saihara-kun," Akamatsu walked up to the anxiety-ridden Saihara. "Um, they... they finally found Ouma."

Every thought proceeded to halt in Saihara's brain. He almost looked up at her excitedly, but the tone in Akamatsu's voice suggested the state of Ouma wasn't a good one.

He slowly turned around, mood slightly lifted. "How... how is he? Ouma-kun, I mean."

"He's... he's okay." Akamatsu hesitantly answered, suggesting that wasn't the end of it. "He was found with multiple bruises, and one of his arms were broken. He's alive, sure, but now he's in a coma that he will possibly never wake up from." 

_He's alive but in a coma._ Saihara tried to process everything Akamatsu told him. He was overjoyed Ouma was alive, sure, but... 

_“Now he's in a coma that he will possibly never wake up from.”_

_...possibly never wake up from..._

It was almost as if Saihara could hear his own heart shattering. "H-He... he won't wake up?" Disbelief colored Saihara's tone. _It's not possible. Kokichi will wake up. He will wake up, right? Kokichi needs to... Kokichi needs to..._

Saihara's thoughts were extremely panicked, remarkably unaware that he had internally called the boy by his first name.

"There's a possibility he will, but it's lower than one percent. I'm sorry. Its extremely likely Ouma-kun will never see the light of day ever again." Akamatsu explained.

With that, any lingering hope in Saihara's heart had been thoroughly shattered. "...I see. Thank you, Akamatsu-san." Defeat was littered throughout Saihara's words. 

The only way to describe it, what he was feeling... it was like he had been living his whole life in the night. Cold, alone, shivering as snow fell endlessly. The freezing cold getting sharper and more dangerous.

When suddenly, his attention was brought to the sudden sun. His life, which had been in the cold, shivering darkness, was suddenly shown a little warmth. He was rather confused by the change. When did it become so warm? It had felt new and unfamiliar. For once in his life, he had felt warm, safe, like he wasn't going to die shivering and alone. He enjoyed the warmth, soaking it in as the snow revealed green fields underneath, that were just waiting to peek out.

But then he was plunged back into darkness. After a few years of sunlight, he was back into the dark again. He cried, tears making his suddenly-cold body colder. The temperature was unbearably cold. The night seemed to be even harsher after finally finding the sun.

He didn't know how cold it was until his tears started freezing. His nerves were shutting down, making him unable to tell just exactly how harsh it was. It was hot, hot, hot. He needed to cool down, right n-

He tried walking, but his legs gave out, too. He dropped into the snow, chills running through his body as they desperately tried searching for any warmth. Hypothermia, frostbite, it didn't really matter as he began to shut down.

It was all because the sun had suddenly died. Someone saw how happy he was in the warmth and wanted the sun out.

Kokichi Ouma was Shuichi Saihara's sun. And he, right now, was feeling extremely cold.

Akamatsu hugged the near-tears boy. "It's okay, Saihara. I'll be here for you. If you're feeling close to falling, I can be the one you'll fall on."

Saihara was grateful for the kind gesture. He honestly really was, but the part of himself he hated the most started speaking again.

_You know, there are multiple cases like this._

_What?_ He asked himself, knowing full well he had the answer.

_It is entirely possible one of your 'friends' were jealous of him. So, he was nearly killed out of their 'love' for you. Aren't you pathetic, small detective? You're doubting your friends who just want to help you out._

_Shut up._ Saihara told himself, angrily. He _hated_ it when his anxiety and his knowledge of murder motives joined together.

But he couldn't help but see every one of his friends in a suspicious light now. They could have done it. They could have murdered his sun.

Maybe someone nearly witnessed the murder and couldn't finish the job, leaving Ouma in a state where he couldn't wake up.

After all, never waking up is the same as death. 

Saihara thanked Akamatsu for her support, although nearly reluctantly, and asked where the hospital Ouma was kept at was. She answered, understanding her friend's worry.

Before he knew it, Saihara was running. The hospital was nearby, but it seemed incredibly far away, no matter how fast Saihara ran.

Glares were sent his way as he bumped into various people. But the only person he was thinking about was Ouma. He forced himself to slow down.

"I'm... I'm looking for Kokichi Ouma," he gasped, out of air.

"He is in room 453. Also, running isn't allowed. Please be mindful of others when visiting."

Saihara nodded slowly and walked into the elevator. There were other people inside, panicked, sad, and the atmosphere was unbearable for the anxiety-ridden detective. He pressed the button for the fourth floor as it raised slowly but surely.

The elevator door opened as Saihara always reminded himself that he _needs to stay calm_. He had to tell himself that Ouma was alive.

After quite a bit of walking, he found himself at the door of the room where he was kept in. He almost opened the door, but he heard voices on the other side. 

"...almost as good as dead."

There were a few gasps on the other side. Hushed murmurs filled the room that Saihara was about to enter. His hand was frozen in place, stuck hovering above the doorknob.

The voices eventually stopped talking as Saihara's hand fell limp to his side. The door opened as various people with sadness clouding their eyes walked out. It seemed as if it was in slow motion. The single doctor and the people walked around him.

What he didn't miss was that said people were wearing checkered scarfs, similar to Ouma's own.

 _Ah_. Saihara thought absentmindedly. _They're part of the organization Kokichi came to love so much. They're his family..._

This time around, Saihara noticed his slip-up. _Kokichi, huh... when did I begin to call him by that? When did he go from Ouma to Kokichi?_

Saihara didn't finish his thoughts as he was suddenly aware that the hallway around room 453 was empty. If anyone saw him, they would think he's extremely weird for standing in front of a door, so he mustered his confidence. The doorknob slowly twisted as his worst fear became the sudden truth.

There were multiple cuts along Ouma's arm, ones he had seen before in previous cases, ones he definitely knew were _not_ self-inflicted. Bruises littered his pale skin, color matching Ouma's hair. There was a shallow cut along the left side of his neck as well, indicating the person who attempted to kill Ouma went directly for the neck but missed. Barely.

Ouma's eyes remained closed, no matter how long Saihara stared. There was no peacefulness to be found here, only Ouma's eerily still face. Saihara's heart squeezed and burned. The monitor may have beeped with Ouma's slow but steady heartbeat, but Saihara felt otherwise.

...comas like the one Ouma's in, it's as good as permanent death. He was alive but dead.

Feeling safe as no one was around, Saihara opened his mouth to speak. "Hey, Kokich- I mean, Ouma... It's Shuichi." Saihara didn't know what to say, how could he act like Ouma was awake and hearing everything he said?

"I... I can tell that someone did this to you on purpose. And I wish it didn't feel like this, because... well, being asleep forever is the same as death, isn't it? I swear, on my talent... I'll find who did this to you. I want to hear you laugh at me, tease me, and... well, now I feel like I wouldn't mind the chase. Sure, I have my 'emo hat' back now, but now you're still. I... I miss you," Saihara let out how he felt since no one could hear him anyway. The person in question he was talking to was 'dead' anyway...

"I promise I'll come back. Even if it hurts, I'll come back," Saihara told Ouma, as a goodbye for now.

Saihara turned to the door, looked back in a way that almost felt final (but he knew it wouldn't be), and opened the door.

It felt like he was leaving Ouma behind for eternity, and _god he would be lying if he said it didn't hurt_ , but he had to go or the nurses would kick him out, and that would hurt even more.

Shuichi Saihara knew the reason Ouma was hurt was an assault. An assault that planned to turn into murder, but never did. He would have to visit the place it happened. He had to, or the guilt would start eating him from the inside out (as if it wasn't already).

Too many 'what if's filled his mind. He would find whoever assaulted Kokichi Ouma, and he staked his talent on it.

It had been a _year_. A whole year since Saihara had last heard Ouma's voice. The assaulter still hadn't been found, and all clues lead to one of his friends at Hope's Peak academy.

But he couldn't believe one of his friends would attempt to kill Ouma just because Saihara had spent time with him.

Ouma's wounds had healed by then. But the impact of it lasted. Ouma was still in a coma, always asleep, and unaware of anything that went on around him.

The last gift Ouma had given Saihara had died as well, but new ones sprung up. He had to keep those flowers alive, it was the last sign Saihara had of Ouma and he was desperate to keep it around.

He was extremely desperate to solve the case of Kokichi Ouma. 

If someone had compared Saihara a year ago to Saihara now, they would all agree they were separate people. Saihara's eyes had lost their glow, replaced by an emptiness that could only be matched by Ouma's vacant eyes. Saihara's hair had grown out, he didn't bother cutting it until it reached his shoulders. Eyebags were always under his eyes, the most sleep his body would ever permit him was 5 hours.

His friends were worried. He had stopped hanging out with them long ago, but they knew they had to keep a careful check on Saihara or there would be no Saihara. Sometimes the knock on his door was Akamatsu. Other times, Momota. It cycled through all of his friends until it was back to Akamatsu again. He never opened the door but he did respond back from inside. When he didn't his thoughts were screaming at him.

_Useless. You can't call yourself the ultimate detective if you can't even solve one case. Absolute failure. Nobody likes you. They think you're a freak. Ouma would be disgusted at you for not being able to find just one goddamn person. Ouma doesn't deserve to be loved by someone like you._

Saihara had stopped trying to shut out those thoughts. They'd stop eventually, leaving Saihara feeling like a forest that was just blazed through fire.

In the year that had passed Saihara had realized the feelings he felt toward Ouma were not at all platonic. He was truly in love with him. He wouldn't stop loving him either.

Giving up on those feelings that burned like a mansion ablaze, feelings so strong, meant Saihara would have to throw away what was left of his already-destroyed self.

If he couldn't solve this one case, why would he be called the ultimate detective?

Saihara felt like his talent was slipping away. If he was presented with cases that he solved with ease a year ago, he would struggle on even the simplest thing that past him felt was like breathing.

Shuichi Saihara was losing his talent.

The more his talent withered away...

The more Shuichi Saihara wished to be rid of this world. The more he stopped being what made him himself.

He didn't have any will to live. And, if he did, it was only because of Ouma. Before he said 'goodbye' to the world forever, he needed to at least redeem himself so he and Ouma could both rest peacefully.

Ouma was still stuck in a coma. But at this point, he was dead to the world. The world went on around him. Saihara visited him and mourned for the loss of the only person he ever cared about.

"Hey. Ouma. Would you promise to not be sad if I was gone? I don't want to live anymore." Saihara had said something along those lines on multiple occasions. He had said it many times, to a point where he couldn't remember when he started doing so.

Whenever he said words like those, the monitor showed his heartbeat quickened just by a little. Not enough that a normal person would notice, but noticeable for someone who has been seeing said monitor for a year now.

It was a good indication that Ouma still could somehow be saved. In a time that almost felt a century ago, Akamatsu once said the chance was lower than one percent. But a chance it still was. He was willing to take it.

Before when Saihara began to lose his detective skills, he had found something quite interesting. Hope's Peak Academy's purpose, although inhumane, was finally about to go into action.

The Kamukura Izuru project, also called the Hope Cultivation project. Using their vast funds from the Reserve Course, they would experiment on one of their brains to imbue artificial talent. To turn them from a talentless human being into one brimming with talent to bring hope to others.

Or, that was the point. It was a last resort for Saihara, but it was his only hope at that point. He had nothing to lose anymore. He would willingly sign up for the project himself. They might reject him since he 'has a talent', but Saihara knew that wasn't the case.

He had become as talentless as an everyday human. His talent had withered away, leaving him worthless and one of his past worst nightmares coming true. Maybe if he was still emotional, he would have cried out with a desperate plea, "Please! I'll do anything to get talent... anything! I don't care about the consequences, just please!"

But he wasn't. His emotions had withered away along with his talent, leaving him a living husk.

Saihara needed something to replace his lost talent, so he started looking into how people acted. Body language. Signs of lies. Lies, huh...

He knew from how secretive some teachers started to act that the plan was finally in motion. He had followed a suspicious teacher who was fidgeting around. Surprisingly not getting caught at any time, although with close calls, he managed to find the Kamukura Project site.

He found the site where a talentless person would come in, and come out with talent.

But they hadn't started quite yet. They were still choosing their guinea pig. So Saihara had maybe a day or two, at best, to say goodbye to Ouma.

So that's exactly what he did.

The receptionists at the hospital knew immediately who he was and where he was going at this point. They had acknowledged him with a silent nod while Saihara walked the familiar path to Ouma's room.

And before he knew it he was in. Room 453. The plaque on the room had said Ouma Kokichi, the plaque only given to those who had been there for a year or more. It was a depressing sign to see plaques, but he didn’t care anymore.

The door opened and there laid a familiar sight. The ends of Ouma's hair had faded, turning back into its natural color: dark purple. Eyes that laid closed. Disheveled messy hair that had grown quite a considerable amount. Heart monitor always beeping, filling the silent room with an annoying sound.

This was what the world left of Kokichi Ouma. The boy who smiled and teased 'my beloved Saihara-chan', lied constantly and was the other half of Shuichi Saihara. A liar clad in white clothing.

Well, used to be... His clothes were changed, sure, but they were obviously the same kind each time. The liar in white clothing had become a silent sleeping beauty in teal.

Saihara entered, knowing full well this may be the last time he would ever speak to Ouma.

"Hey, Kokichi," he started, trying to find which words to say. "This might be the last time I ever see you. If I do see you again, I don't think both of us could recognize each other. I wouldn't be your beloved Saihara-chan anymore."

Saihara was quickly aware of the faster beeping filling the room. But he had to overpower the annoying noise, fill it with his parting words.

"I'm sorry. At this point I am a completely different person, with Shuichi Saihara's memories... but neither of us will ever give up on you. Kokichi, the words I've wanted to say for the past year and even before that... I'll say them now before I never can speak again. Kokichi Ouma, I love you."

Tears were dripping out of Saihara's eyes. Maybe he hadn't lost his emotions after all, and that frightened him the most. If he were to feel any more than this, he might just... just...

"I love you, Kokichi. I'm sorry... goodbye." with the words finally out of Saihara's mouth, he placed a gentle kiss on Ouma's warm forehead.

He pulled away, immediately missing the contact he had not felt in eons, and turned to the door.

The steps he took to get to Ouma's room were natural, but he felt himself forcing his legs to move. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to say goodbye to Kokichi Ouma, the boy he sincerely loved with his broken, battered heart, but he had to.

He forced himself to turn the doorknob and close the door. He nearly ran in the hallway, running away from the one thing he wanted the most. Sobbing now, tears not hesitating to fall out, he ran. Doctors ran past him, notified at Ouma's dangerously quickened heartbeat. Saihara knew it was his fault that Ouma's heart spiraled a little out of control. But all he could do was run. He couldn't think and didn't want to anymore.

...and maybe, if he would have lingered a little longer with Ouma, he would have seen the single glistening tear that ran down on Ouma's face.

It was finally time. Whatever was left of Saihara's humanity was most definitely gone, left with Ouma. He would confront those controlling the sick project, and become one of their guinea pigs, to disappear from humanity.

"I know what you're doing," Saihara's cold, emotionless voice cut through the air.

"H-how did you know of this location?! This is highly classified, no one could get in without-"

"No need to say anything," he continued. "I don't intend to stop you. I intend to be one of your guinea pigs. I used to be the Ultimate Detective, but that talent is gone and will stay as such. I am as talented as those in the reserve course who you want to use. So go on and do it. Use me for the Kamukura project and let me be forgotten by humanity for the sake of hope."

They somehow reluctantly agreed. Maybe it was because Saihara's personality was already extremely similar to what the end product of this project would be.

Before heading into the facility, he had noticed another boy who looked to be there for the same reason he was.

"You."

The other boy, who was of similar age and had brown spiky hair and hazel eyes, jumped slightly.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Tell me your name," Saihara asked, plain and simple. If this was the person who was also going to be experimented on, Saihara had to know a name, at the very least.

"Hajime Hinata. What is yours?"

"...Shuichi Saihara. Former Ultimate Detective. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Why are you involved in this project if you're already an ultimate?" Hinata asked, a little hesitant and... a hint of fear staining his voice.

"It's very simple. I'm the former Ultimate Detective. I lost my talent, in every sense of the word."

"...oh." was all that was said.

Hinata and Saihara walked, although being forced, to go the destination of the project, the site of their deaths.

Shuichi Saihara and Hajime Hinata would be fully gone from the world.

Saihara suddenly felt very fearful. _What would happen to Kokichi? What about the flowers? Wait, I can't be doing this! I have to go back! Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait-_

The regrets piled up, Saihara suddenly wishing he could have done anything else. He prayed someone would take care of the flowers in his place. If they didn't...

_If nobody takes care of those flowers, Kokichi is gone! He'll be dead! I'll have to accept that he'll never wake up if those flowers are gone, and I can't... I can't! I can't-_

Empty, fearful regret was all that was plastered on Hinata and Saihara's faces, as their last thoughts were something extremely similar as they blacked out.

_What if I did something different? I wouldn't be here if I just did something else..._

The world turned black for Hajime Hinata and Shuichi Saihara. They two of them would not wake up for a very long time. Their bodies might, but not themselves. Hinata and Saihara were dead, in the truest, most awful sense of the word.  
  


The first thing he saw when he woke up was blinding green lights and another person of similar long hair to him. He didn't know anything about himself. What did he look like?

Two long bundles of navy-blue hair fell in front of him, and that's the first thing he knew. _So my hair is navy-blue. Boring._

Everything felt extremely boring around him. People in white coats watching him was boring.

He looked at the boy next to him. Long, dark-brown hair, and piercing red eyes. The two of them seemed to analyze each other for a quick moment.

"...boring." They agreed in unison.

As they were ushered out of the room, they were told their names at the very least. His name was Izuru Kamukura... as was the boy next to him. He decided on Shizuru. There needed to be a difference after all.

They were both the Ultimate Hope, with the same name.

They were thrown into a room where there was a very dim, flickering, light. The door was locked and even with their talents, they had no way of getting out. They did not need to anyway.

"My name is Izuru Kamukura. I am the Ultimate Hope," Izuru tested. "This is boring."

"I am the same as you. I have decided to be called Shizuru Kamukura."

The two of them didn't know what to do in their quickly festering boredom.

"I heard those who are extremely similar could be called brothers," Shizuru called to Izuru, both wanting some way to fend off their boredom. "Do you think it might be possible for us to be so?"

"It is indeed possible, although not in a blood-related sense,"

Shizuru and Izuru currently had no purpose. Their talents would sit, unused, and being leeched on by those who did not have such a thing. They waited for someone to come along to give them a purpose, and even that didn't take very long.

Shizuru met someone named Enoshima, who claimed despair was exciting and was unpredictable. Something that wasn't boring.

Shizuru wanted that more than anything. So he left the dark room with Enoshima and Izuru.

When he looked up, he saw a crimson-red sky. His vast knowledge informed him that it wasn't natural. The sky was usually blue.

It didn't matter to Shizuru anyway, the color change of the sky quickly became boring to him.

Unlike Enoshima, he didn't feel a like of killing. He only ever did out of self-defense, and the same went for Izuru.

This situation was called 'The Tragedy', he quickly learned.

He was exploring what was left of Hope's Peak Academy along with Izuru, the place that had created his existence. He came across a park, the bench in pieces, and the trees in a similar fashion. The park was bathed in a crimson-red due to the sky, but he found himself exploring it anyway. He felt drawn to it, drawn to explore it. There was a multitude of violet flowers littering the torn grass, and Shizuru plucked one. 

But the moment he did, he got a splitting headache and noise filling his head. Memories that didn't belong to him started to invade his senses.

'...ere! Take this flower with you, so you can remember me fore...' a faceless, nameless boy called out to Shizuru in the memory.

Shizuru didn't realize there was something unfamiliar rolling down his cheeks and dripping off of his chin until he touched it for himself.

Tears. He had not done such a thing, crying tears, even when being shown Enoshima's acts. Was it the flower, or the boy whose face was blurry to him?

Was it the boy who told him to take the flower in his memory, to remember him, even after Shizuru forgot him?

...there was no room for questioning. That was definitely the answer. His past self (he had no recollection of the past 16 years of his life) had a strong emotional attachment to that boy.

_Even looking at this boy, who was faceless and nameless... "Here! Take this flower so you'll remember me forever!" ...who is it, exactly, that I've forgotten? Why... why am I crying?_

The tears were continuing to flow as Izuru came over to see why he was crying. "What happened?"

"Something to do with the 'Saihara' some ultimates at the academy were mistakenly calling me, most likely." His voice shook, Shizuru feeling unnatural as his voice wavered.

"I see. Some called me Hinata. It is quite peculiar, who the people before us were." Izuru responded. Shizuru had made up his mind.

"I am going to investigate some things. Tell Enoshima I'm inflicting despair if she asks where I am."

With that Shizuru was off, letting muscle memory control him as he ran through broken streets and debris from fallen buildings. Perhaps the place where he was running to was long gone, and so was the reason why he was running in the first place.

Miraculously, it wasn't. A large hospital remained completely intact, people inside cowering at him when they realized an Ultimate Despair had broken through their pitiable attempts at defense.

He let muscle memory guide him as the elevators weren't working.

Floor 4.

He kept running.

The hallway that contains the 450's numbers.

He ran until he stopped at a certain room.

Room 453. It was intact as the rest of the building. The nearly-falling plaque read "Kokichi Ouma", a name Shizuru knew he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

The door opened with ease. A boy with dark purple hair laid there, eyes closed.

A part of Shizuru he didn't know existed panicked and immediately checked for a heartbeat, as the machines weren't working.

  
_...ba-dump... ba-dump... ba-dump..._

The heartbeat was slow, but there. Ouma was alive. Tears flowed out of Shizuru's eyes. He didn't make a move to wipe them away. _I've been prone to crying, today..._

"Who are you, Kokichi Ouma?" The words fell out of Shizuru's mouth before he could process what he was doing.

Shizuru knew deep in his heart that the boy in front of him was extremely important to him, dear to his heart. If he wasn't, why would he be crying out of happiness and relief? (Were those even emotions Shizuru could feel?)

His instinct told him he needed to get Ouma to a place where he would be cared for. Shizuru carefully plucked the machinery off of Ouma and carried him carefully down the stairs.

So he ran to the Future Foundation.

They would probably kill Shizuru, but he didn't care as long as they _did what he asked them to_ , which was to cure Ouma.

"I couldn't care less about what you did to me as long as you heal him." He told them, who quickly pried Ouma off of his hands.   
  


There were 16 pods. He was to go into one and turn back into what he was before the Kamukura project and get Ouma back and alive. He didn't mind. This is what he needed to do, for his past self and for Ouma, and he'd do it a thousand times if he ever needed to.

He had become increasingly aware of his past self's desires. When he looked in a mirror, one of his eyes had partially turned golden. This was his original eye color, wasn't it?

As he was instructed to get into the pod, he couldn't help but think about Ouma again. This was for him.

And he'd do anything for him.

As Shizuru felt his self be consumed by the darkness, he smiled. Smiled a painful smile, one that he remembered his past self doing before the tragedy started. He'd told Ouma these exact words before disappearing, to reappear as Shizuru Kamukura.

_I love you, Kokichi. I'm sorry... goodbye._

Those words held sentimentality, enough to keep that past part of him alive. He felt himself being replaced by 'Saihara', and he was okay with it.

He didn't regret anything as he was consumed by darkness, this time.

  
  


_Shuichi Saihara_ woke up. He had assisted Hajime Hinata and other Ultimate Despairs with their recovery process.

But, he had woken up.

He was in his own body.

His head felt a tad bit heavier than usual.

_What-?! What is this?!_

His hair was extremely long and the cowlick on top of his head had grown as well.

"Ah... I'm back...?" Saihara spoke out loud, voice a little scratchy from being unused for a while.

He was on a hospital bed, in the traditional aqua clothes for a hospital patient. He would have thought it was a normal hospital if it weren't for the sea the windows on his left side overlooked.

Saihara was so enamored by the view that he nearly missed the wheelchair on the right side of himself.

And more importantly... the person sitting on it... 

They had a a familiar, soft tuft of dark purple hair. Their eyes were closed, in actual rest instead of a coma.

"Kokichi...?" Saihara asked out of disbelief. "Kokichi... is that you?! Are you really... awake?"

Ouma's eyes opened slowly. His large, amethyst eyes stared up at Saihara. Eyes Saihara thought he'd never get to look into again.

Tears welled up in Saihara's eyes. He had been waiting for this day for a year, and when it finally came...

"Kokichi... you're... you're honestly awake..." Saihara repeated, in disbelief and extreme relief. Saihara couldn't hold anything back anymore, he hugged Ouma, squeezed him, and feeling the warm heat of the other, indeed confirming it was him.

Saihara let his tears flow out. He wouldn't lie about anything in front of Ouma ever again. He wouldn't let the smaller boy go, for extreme fear of what would happen if he did.

"Saihara-chan... Shuichi. A... a lot has happened while I was gone, huh? I'm so, so sorry. And that's not a lie, and it never will be. I will never leave you again." Ouma wrapped his arms around the sobbing Saihara.

"But please... please never say you want to die, ever again... it hurt, Shuichi! God, it hurt, when I heard those words come out of your mouth! I... I love you, and I can't bear to see you this way any longer!" Ouma sobbed into Saihara's chest, the two of them never wanting to let go of the other.

"Kokichi... I love you, I love you so much it hurts... every time I saw you, you were always asleep, and it hurt me! It broke me, broke me into pieces... Kokichi Ouma, I am never letting you go!" Saihara couldn't bear it, bear it that his heart was broken and mended. He was tired of living in the blizzard, in the night. He wanted his sun, the one to show him the kindest warmth he had ever known.

It had taken quite a very long time for Saihara and Ouma to calm down, and they were laying down in the bed together, hugging each other close and indulging in the heat the other provided.

The two of them fell asleep, a small smile gracing each of their lips.

_Kokichi Ouma woke up._ For the first time in a year, he had woken up _before_ Saihara did. For the first time in a year, Saihara had looked relaxed while he'd slept. Their legs were tangled together and Saihara had unconsciously hugged Ouma closer to him.

Ouma was full of regret, regret that he fell asleep for a year, regret that he had left Saihara's thoughts to overwhelm him. He himself thought he would never wake up, but here he was, eyes open and sleepily blinking.

Ouma found himself running his fingers through Saihara's hair, which had grown extremely long since the last time he had seen him. Ouma felt Saihara relax against him, and the navy-haired male let out a contented sigh.

A gentle smile took over Ouma's neutral expression. He was full of the fluttering feeling called love, and all of it was directed toward the sleeping male in front of him.

He was in love with Shuichi Saihara, and he knew that would never change. He never did quite figure out when his feelings for the detective had changed into love, but it did. And after being apart for so long, those feelings intensified. What was a normal flame was set ablaze and became as hot as the sun.

All of Ouma's thoughts stopped when he felt Saihara begin to stir. Saihara's eyes fluttered open, suddenly aware of the face a mere inch away from him. Gold and crimson eyes stared into amethyst, gazes never turning away from each other.

"Good morning, Shuichi," Ouma said to Saihara whose eyes narrowed slightly and lips curved into a smile.

"Good morning, Kokichi," Saihara replied back. He was truly grateful that his sun had returned and banished the night, for good. 

The two of them leaned into each other as their lips locked in a gentle kiss. The action sent a feeling like electricity through both Ouma and Saihara's veins, accelerating the need for the touch they were deprived of. They pulled apart reluctantly, only when feeling the need to breathe.

Both of their faces were flushed pink. They had finally done what they had both been wishing to do for a long, terribly long time.

Saihara had pulled Ouma in for another embrace, to which the small purple-haired boy responded by wrapping his arms around Saihara.

"Kokichi, I don't know how I can properly express to you how much I love you, and how much I missed you... I won't let anything separate us ever again."

"I feel the same way, Shuichi. I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for abandoning you. I missed you too..."

The two who had been forced apart for a near-endless eternity were finally back in each other's embraces. And that was the way it would stay, until the end of time itself.

«❤️»

**Author's Note:**

> Well, after mustering a bunch of courage, I finally published this story. I hope you enjoyed, because I planned on writing Kokichi’s side of the story. And that might possibly hurt more, but I don’t know. It’s 3:44 am, so I’m going to sleep now.
> 
> Fun Facts:  
> • Although never seen or mentioned, KomaHina does happen.
> 
> • Hajime and Shuichi became close because they were victims of the same project, and because Shizuru and Izuru considered themselves brothers... Well yeah now they’re brothers. Yay.
> 
> • The entire V3 cast is alive, actually.
> 
> • Kokichi did eventually tell Shuichi who put him in a coma. Shuichi can’t forgive them, and never will. 
> 
> • Because there were basically two Izurus, the recovery process for DR2’s cast is way smoother and easier. 
> 
> • Nothing really changed in Danganronpa 2. Shuichi’s just there now.
> 
> • The reason Shuichi was losing his talent is because of forced suppression and stuff. Like how if someone goes through something traumatic, they force themselves to forget it. So he unconsciously suppressed his talent. 
> 
> • Because of that, the people working on Izuru project had to go around Shuichi’s already existing talent, resulting in Shizuru being susceptible to having Shuichi moments. 
> 
> • I am writing Kokichi’s side of the story, and the person who attacked him will be revealed there, but I have a feeling most of you won’t like the truth. 
> 
> • Shuichi and Kokichi eventually do get married. They have a peaceful life on the island with the rest of the Remnants of Despair. 
> 
> • Kokichi was put in room 453. 53. Hehe. 
> 
> • Kokichi heard Shuichi saying he wanted to kill himself on multiple occasions, yet could not do anything about it.
> 
> • The real kicker is this, when he heard Shuichi saying when he sees Kokichi next, that he might not be himself, he panicked hard. 
> 
> • He also panicked when he heard Shizuru say “Who are you, Kokichi Ouma?” because he recognized Shuichi’s voice, and he wondered what the hell happened for him to... just suddenly forget.
> 
> I wrote this story before playing any of the Danganronpa games, and only had online summaries as my knowledge... 😅 I originally published this July 11 but came back today, November 23 to edit now that I’ve played all 3 games.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day, and don’t forget to talk to someone if you’re ever having suicidal thoughts!


End file.
